Shadows Rising
by Jaenera Targaryen
Summary: The Galactic Empire, under the leadership of Darth Invictus, has destroyed Starkiller Base. As the First Order struggles to recover from their losses and prepare to face the might of the Empire, the Rebel Alliance and the Resistance join forces in preparation to continue the fight to restore freedom and justice to the galaxy...but can they they? Sequel to Worlds Collide.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Wars_ , it is owned by Disney.

Shadows Rising

Prologue

Alarms screamed across the Alliance-Resistance base as sensors detected Imperial ships jumping out of hyperspace in full combat formation. Aboard a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser in orbit, crew rushed to battle stations while pilots prepared to launch in their fighters.

"Reading one hundred and fifty Imperial warships on our scopes." One of the sensor personnel reported on the cruiser's bridge. "Looks like fifty _Imperial II_ Class Star Destroyers, and another one hundred _Lancer_ Class Frigates."

Vice Admiral Holdo nodded slowly while staring out from the command deck. "Confirm those are Imperial warships, and not First Order vessels." She ordered.

"Standby ma'am," the sensor personnel said before checking on their instrumentation. After several moments, one of them turned back to the admiral. "Confirmed, those are Imperial warships."

"We'll have to be careful then." Holdo said. "In addition to having superior numbers, the Imperial Navy will have superior organization and experience compared to the First Order. Status of the evacuation?"

"The last transports are taking off ma'am, and the base is set to self-destruct." One operations personnel reported. "Disassembly and relocation procedures were completed as planned."

"Good." Holdo said with a nod. Thankfully the rest of the High Command – General Organa and Admiral Ackbar in particular – had been evacuated along with most of the Resistance's personnel, escorted by the Alliance contingent. Holdo herself had stayed behind to command the rearguard, to oversee the disassembly of the base's portable components, and the destruction of what could not be taken along. She would then escort those who'd also stayed behind to the rendezvous point, and if necessary, hold off Imperial or First Order forces in case they arrived prior to the evacuation's completion.

And that's precisely what was happening here.

" _Thank the Force we managed to discover that probe droid in time._ " Holdo thought in relief. " _Who knows what would have happened if we hadn't._ "

"What should we do, admiral?" Holdo's aide asked.

"We cannot afford to engage in line battle." Holdo replied. "The enemy has too many ships arrayed against us here. The moment our transports are clear of the atmosphere, we're to break orbit at maximum speed and out of the planet's gravitational influence before making a jump to hyperspace. Status of the Imperial Fleet?"

"…admiral, we are receiving a transmission from the Imperial flagship!"

Holdo blinked in surprise, and then glanced at her aide. "Patch it through." She finally said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Rebel forces," a strong voice filtered through the speakers. "This is Admiral Wilhelm Maybach of the Imperial Navy's Maybach Fleet. You are outnumbered and outgunned. Lower your shields, power down your weapons and engines, and prepare to be boarded. Any and all surrendering officers and men will be treated appropriately as per the Alderaan Conventions. You have five minutes to comply before the commencement of hostilities. That is all."

Holdo glanced at her aide as the transmission was cut. "What do you think?" she asked.

"We can't exactly surrender, can we ma'am?" the aide replied. "That said, this Admiral Maybach seems rather civilized for an Imperial, doesn't he?"

"He is, isn't he?" Holdo agreed. "Normally you'd expect them to go on about us being 'rebel scum' and how they'd be showing no mercy…this man though sounds like an officer of the old school from the Core…"

"Admiral, fighter and bomber launch detected!"

"What?" Holdo asked in surprise, and then her eyes widened as she saw the tactical display. "Open a channel to Commander Dameron, now!"

* * *

On the _Iron Duke_ 's bridge, Admiral Maybach stared out from the command deck at the distant visage of the rebel fleet. The entire fleet was waiting for the word to be given to press the attack, and given the small size of the rebel fleet, it wouldn't last long.

" _It's too small, though._ " Maybach thought. " _The rebel fleet is too small…we got here too late, damn it. Clyne was right, the evacuation is almost complete._ "

The admiral sighed. " _Well,_ " he thought. " _Let's whittle them down a little further here and now regardless._ "

Maybach turned to Lieutenant Adelheid Clyne. "How long until our ultimatum expires, lieutenant?" he asked.

"Approximately two minutes left, sir." The sprightly young Alderaanian replied.

"Good, but considering how the rebels tend to think about things perhaps we…"

"Admiral, we are receiving a transmission for the rebel fleet."

The admiral and his aide looked at each other. "Patch it through." Maybach eventually ordered.

"Yes sir."

"This is Commander Poe Dameron of the Republic Fleet." A young man's voice echoed through the channel. "I have an urgent communique for Admiral Maybach."

"This is Admiral Maybach." Maybach responded. "Am I to understand commander, that you represent your fleet's commander?"

"Hi, I'm holding for Admiral Maybach."

The admiral and his aide looked at each other in confusion. "This is Maybach." The admiral said cautiously. "Commander, do you or do you not represent your fleet's commander?"

"Okay, I'll hold."

The admiral sighed and made a cutting gesture with his hand. "And to the void with niceties and courtesy." Clyne quoted.

"Well said, lieutenant." Maybach said. "If that is how they will respond to our offer for honorable surrender, then we will respond in kind. Signal the fleet, maintain the formation, and ahead one quarter. Launch the first attack wave."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

"Alright, boys and girls." Poe cheerfully said over the encrypted channel. "I hoped to mess with the enemy a bit more, but from the look of things, they don't seem to have much of a sense of humor. Let's do this."

"Commander Dameron," Holdo cut in over the encrypted channel. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Taking out the enemy flagship." Poe replied. "There's no way we can escape the planet's gravitational influence without the enemy taking potshots at us, but if we take out their flagship, we can throw their fleet into confusion and get away scot free."

"…negative, withdraw immediately. Repeat, withdraw immediately." Holdo ordered after a moment's pause. "There is no chance you'll even get near the enemy flagship, now fall back and proceed to the fleet's jump point at maximum speed."

"Sorry admiral," Poe said, narrowing his eyes at the approaching shapes of Imperial TIE Fighters. "But I can't do that. Engage!"

Flooring the afterburners, Poe accelerated to maximum battle speed, nimbly evading green lances of death fired at him from the Imperial fighter craft. "You can't hit me." He murmured, while homing in on a TIE. "Now, stay just like…that!"

Poe pulled the trigger, laser cannons spitting out crimson death and blowing the TIE out of the sky. A TIE Fighter closed in on Poe's rear, but he avoided its volley and corkscrewing to the side allowed the TIE to overshoot and enter Poe's kill zone. Lasers lashed out again, and the TIE exploded.

"No way you can shoot me down," Poe said with a grin, as three TIEs tried to gang up on him. "Even three on one, you're still a whole galaxy away from being able to fight me for the sky…good night!"

Lasers lashed out as Poe flew his X-Wing out of the TIE Fighters' kill zone, and getting behind them blew them apart in a matter of seconds. "And that's five in less than a minute!" Poe said over the line. "All squadrons, report in."

"Bravo Squadron, all clear."

"Charlie Squadron, all clear."

"Delta Squadron, two units down."

"Echo…squad…"

Poe blinked. "Echo Squadron," he said. "Captain Raynolds, report. What's your status?"

"Commander Dameron," a female pilot he recognized by voice as from Charlie Squadron quietly chimed in. "Echo Squadron's been wiped out."

Poe gasped in shock and surprise, and then glared up at the slowly advancing forms of the Imperial Fleet. "Damn it!" he swore.

* * *

"Lieutenant Clyne?"

"Yes sir?"

"What do you make of those units?"

Maybach pointed at several units hanging behind the rebel fighter screens, and the lieutenant blinked in surprise and confusion. Touching the tactical display's controls, she zoomed in on them before turning to the admiral with a perplexed expression on her face. "Those are gravity bombers." She said. "Are they actually…?"

Maybach shook his head. "I wasn't expecting General Bel Iblis or Admiral Ackbar but…" he said. "This is ridiculous."

"What should we do, sir?"

"Sent out the second attack wave." Maybach ordered. "Have them outflank the enemy fighter screen, and attack the enemy fleet. They are to concentrate their attacks on the enemy flagship: let's cut off the enemy's head, shall we?"

"Yes sir."

"And detail a squadron of TIE Bombers and their escorts to deal with those gravity bombers." Maybach added before shaking his head. "Let's teach these rebels which bombers are to be used in space combat, and how."

"Yes sir."

* * *

A TIE Fighter exploded as Poe and his wingman zoomed past, closing on a _Lancer_ Class up ahead of them. Bright-red laser fire lashed out from its batteries, buffering the approaching X-Wings.

"Double power to forward deflectors." Poe ordered. "Let's take out their screens, and we'll have a clear shot at their flagship."

"There's too much fire coming from that frigate, Poe!"

"Maintain course, while evading as best you can." Poe snapped, activating his targeting computer. As the sensors locked on, Poe jinked from side to side, avoiding the _Lancer_ 's anti-aircraft fire, his squadron doing likewise. "Steady…steady…torpedoes away!"

Proton torpedoes flared away…four of them…Poe's eyes widening in shock as four X-Wings were blown apart by laser fire from the frigate just as they were about to launch their torpedoes. The torpedoes that were launched soared down to the frigate, exploding in powerful explosions that sent the ship reeling, but while wounded it wasn't dead yet.

"NO!" Poe shouted as his wingman screamed, a scream that was quickly cut off as her fighter was blown apart by laser fire from the wounded _Lancer_. "Damn it…damn it!"

He didn't have time to be angry or to mourn though, as another pilot cut in. "Poe, more enemy craft have launched!" the man said in alarm. "They're headed for the fleet…and the bombers!"

Poe gasped, and gritting his teeth glanced at the gleaming visage of the Imperial flagship in the distance. "Damn it," he snarled. "Fall back, and defend the bombers! Abort the attack, and return to the fleet, hurry!"

X-Wings hurriedly disengaged, or tried to, engaged as they were with Imperial TIE Fighters. Poe snarled in frustration as he saw signals disappear one after another across the board. " _This isn't right…this isn't right!_ " he mentally roared. " _The First Order isn't this good, so how the hell is the Empire being better? This doesn't make sense!_ "

"Poe, look!"

* * *

TIE Interceptors screamed towards the bombers, quad cannon turrets blazing as the rebels tried to fend off the Imperials. The Imperials launched repeated strafing runs, blowing turrets apart, and then abruptly peeled off as TIE Bombers entered firing range. Aboard the lead craft, Bomber Captain Katie Shaw licked her lips as the targeting computer locked onto the rebel gravity bombers, and grinning viciously pulled the trigger.

Concussion missiles launched _en masse_ from the TIE Bombers, arcing through space as they soared towards their targets. The rebel bombers were hit, explosions sending debris and flame out into space, before the rebel bombers' payloads went up in massive secondary explosions.

"Mission accomplished." Shaw triumphantly said before alarms began going off through her cockpit.

"Rebel fighters inbound, captain." Her wingman reported.

"I see them." Shaw said, narrowing her eyes. "Standby on second volley of concussion missiles."

"Understood captain."

Shaw maintained course, her bombers falling into formation around her, flying on intercept course. Eyes narrowed further as the targeting computer locked on, and then Shaw pulled the trigger.

Concussion missiles soared out into space yet again, the rebel fighters breaking formation and commencing high-speed evasive maneuvers as they tried to throw the missiles off their tails. Four pilots were not so lucky, going down in balls of fire as the Imperial missiles found their mark. Others managed to throw the missiles off, including one particularly skilled pilot who somehow managed to get behind the missiles and shoot them down.

But the rebel formation had been torn apart, and the initiative belonged to the Empire. "It's all yours, Captain Leach." Shaw said. "Our squadron's heading back to rearm."

"Roger that, Captain Shaw." Captain Toby Leach responded. "Leave it to us."

TIE Interceptors pounced on the remaining rebel fighters, laser bolts and explosions lighting up the darkness of space as dogfights commenced. The lead rebel fighter shot down two interceptors in quick succession, shook off a third and then shot it down as well, before breaking off in the direction of their fleet, followed by the few other surviving X-Wings, the remaining TIE Interceptors in quick pursuit.

"The rebels are attempting to reinforce their fleet." Captain Leach said while recalibrating his target sights. "It's a pointless action, but there's no reason to let up. Maintain pursuit."

"Yes sir!"

* * *

TIEs swarmed over the rebel fleet, Corellian corvettes trying desperately to cover their transports and the flagship cruiser in their midst, but it was a losing battle. Most of their fighters had been destroyed attacking Starkiller Base, and what they had available were tied down fighting the pursuing Imperial Fleet…allowing other attack craft to outflank the contested airspace and attack the unsupported rebel ships.

"Watch out, it's going to blow!"

TIE Fighters and TIE Bombers flew away at maximum battle speed, narrowly avoiding getting caught in a rebel transport's explosion, gutted by multiple hits from proton torpedoes and concussion missiles. "The fleet's almost in range." The bomber captain said. "But the rebels have almost cleared the planet's gravitational influence. We need to take out that cruiser's shields so the fleet can take it out quickly, before they can escape."

"Roger!"

TIE Fighters and TIE Bombers soared through space, zipping past anti-aircraft fire from the rebel corvettes. "Enemy X-Wings, inbound." One pilot reported.

"Bombers, maintain course." The TIE Fighter commander said. "We'll take care of the rebel fighters."

"Roger that."

"Enemy cruiser, dead ahead!"

Anti-aircraft fire lashed out in crimson volleys from the rebel flagship, shooting down one TIE Bomber, but two others zipped past to enter firing range. "I have a lock." One pilot said. "Torpedoes away!"

"Torpedoes away!"

Volleys of torpedoes launched from the bombers as they peeled away, slamming into and destroying the shield generator for the rebel cruiser's bridge deflector shields. Anti-aircraft fire intensified as more TIE Fighters and TIE Bombers swooped in on attack runs, followed by pursuing X-Wings.

Explosions ripped open space in front of the bridge, an X-Wing shooting down fighter after fighter and bomber after bomber…and then one bomber fired, sending a volley of concussion missiles screaming towards the cruiser's bridge moments before it was shot down. The X-Wing maintained course, desperately shooting down each and every missile…

…all save for one, and one was enough. Smashing through the bridge windows, it detonated, destroying the bridge and adjacent areas, killing those present and sending injured screaming out into space.

And then the Imperial Fleet opened fire.

* * *

"NO!" Poe screamed as the flagship's bridge was destroyed, barely peeling away in time to avoid smashing into the ship's hull. Screaming in rage, he punched his fighter's panel as he saw corpses…no, not just corpses, _people_ getting sucked out into space along with debris. And then the Imperial Fleet opened fire, turbolaser blasts burning through space into the fleet.

Corvettes and transports buckled, burned, and exploded under the onslaught, and to Poe's horror even the flagship – deprived of leadership as it was – was mercilessly and helplessly hammered by the Imperial ships. Explosions rippled across its starboard side and rear, the once mighty vessel shuddering and buckling under the Imperial onslaught.

Green laser beams lanced all around Poe, TIE Fighters getting to his rear. Swearing angrily, Poe avoided the Imperial fire, but before he could get around, two other X-Wings soared in, and shot the TIE Fighters down.

"Commander!"

"What do we do now?"

Poe grit his teeth, and then turned in horror as the flagship's reactors went critical and exploded, immolating the rest of the ship in nuclear fire. "…we've no choice." He ground out. "They…they win this round…let's get out of here."

"Roger, commander."

"Roger that."

The three surviving X-Wings went to maximum speed, locking onto their target coordinates, and then vanished as they jumped into hyperspace, leaving the Imperial Fleet victorious over the battlefield.

* * *

A/N

And so we begin with the sequel for _Worlds Collide._ And we start with…a variation, of the space battle at the beginning of _Last Jedi_. With a twist…as you can see above, and if you remember _Worlds Collide_. Specifically, the evacuation is almost complete, and it's just the rear guard fighting here, and the Resistance having already abandoned that planet they used as a base in _Force Awakens._

Some of you might wonder, is the First Order really that qualitatively inferior to the Empire? Actually…yes, they are. Both in terms of inspiration and as shown in feats on the screen. In terms of inspiration…the First Order is based on what if the SS escaped Nazi Germany's downfall, and established their own free state. Setting aside why wouldn't they get nuked by the US…the SS were second-rate troops compared to the regular German Army, for all that they tended to get better equipment. Army officers tended to be more competent, and their soldiers better trained than the ideology-obsessed SS officers and men.

On the screen…contrast the reaction time of TIE crews between the Empire and the First Order. In _Last Jedi_ , the battle had already begun when TIE crews just beginning to prepare to launch. But in _Rogue One_ , Imperial fighters were ready to launch and in fact were already launching just as the rebels were beginning their attacks on the planetary shield generator.

More details will be given in-story in the future, but if you think about it, there's absolutely no reason why the Empire would be qualitatively inferior to the First Order.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Wars_ , it is owned by Disney.

Shadows Rising

Chapter 1

Firmus Piett was a man on a mission. It wasn't a particularly important mission, at least not when it came to the Empire's wellbeing. Indeed, it was more of a personal matter…to an extent. After all, it would not do for an officer of his rank to not have a flagship of his own.

Born on the Outer Rim, Piett had entered the Naval Academy in the Quelii Sector, and would receive his commission as a naval officer shortly before the end of the Clone Wars. He proceeded to distinguish himself in service pacifying unlawful elements – pirates, slavers, smugglers, and the like – and drawing the attention of the local Moff, and ultimately the Sith Lord Darth Vader himself.

Eventually, the latter would lead to Piett being given command of the Star Destroyer _Accuser_ , one of the ships under the Sith Lord's overall command. Eventually, he would be transferred, receiving command of the Star Dreadnought _Executor_ , Lord Vader's own flagship. And ultimately, following the…summary, execution of Admiral Ozzel for gross incompetence, Piett found himself joining the ranks of the Admiralty.

It was…a somewhat, hair-raising promotion, with the sight of his predecessor's cooling corpse on the floor haunting the newly-promoted admiral for some time. That said, he quickly adapted to the responsibilities of his post, and certainly managed to avoid incurring Lord Vader's displeasure in the years leading up to the Raid on Imperial Center.

That was also a…rather hair-raising time for the admiral, as it had him somehow falling under the spotlight of the Imperial Security Bureau (ISB), when his superior had been suspected by the Emperor himself of plotting against him. It turned out though, that such had been part of the rebels' plot, to draw attention away from them, and ultimately to draw Lord Vader himself away as well, away from Imperial Center for when the rebels struck at the Emperor.

Piett had ultimately gazed down on Imperial Center from the _Executor_ 's bridge when Lord Vader had seen through the rebels' scheme, and had returned against the Emperor's own orders to prevent them from succeeding. He had failed though, as by the time the fighting was over, a large portion of the Imperial leadership had been slain by the rebels: The Ubiqtorate, the upper echelon of the ISB, many other Imperial advisers and high officials, and ultimately even the Emperor himself.

The rebels had paid dearly with their lives, and Lord Vader along with his apprentice Darth Invictus were quick to restore order on Imperial Center, and with the assistance of Grand Admiral Osvald Teshik, key sectors of the Core Systems. It was this demonstration of Darth Vader's leadership talent – if it hadn't been proven in the past already – in a crisis that would lead the reconvened Imperial Senate to name him the next Emperor of the Galactic Empire.

Privately, Piett had his suspicions that there were more to those momentous events than what met the eye. He was wise to keep his suspicions to himself though, and in any case it wasn't as though the new Emperor was unworthy of his loyalty. After all, after the…disruptions, that came with the succession, disruptions that Piett had served with distinction in putting down, Piett found himself promoted to the rank of Grand Admiral.

And even setting Piett's personal advancement aside, there was no other man in the entire galaxy who could command the loyalty of enough of the officer corps, and virtually the entirety of the Stormtrooper Corps, and with them have the military strength to keep the Empire together in the wake of the former Emperor's death. Lord Vader also had proven leadership long before and during the succession crisis, and Piett thus saw no reason not to support Lord Vader's claim to power.

With all that, there was no meaning to his or indeed, others' suspicions, and that was the end of the matter.

Grand Admiral Piett now stood in a _Lambda_ Class Shuttle's cockpit, behind the pilot and copilot. "Pilot, take the scenic route." He ordered. "I want to see my ship."

"Yes, sir."

The pilot adjusted his course, and responded to a query from dock control with regard to his deviation from course. "Grand Admiral's orders." The pilot said into his mouthpiece, and after a few more moments of conversation dock control fell silent.

Piett cared nothing for that. He kept his eyes on his ship, on her sleek and powerful lines, and at the cityscape-like array of batteries, shield generators, sensor towers, and the like running along the centerline of the dorsal hull.

Part of the refit involved completely replacing his ship's armor scheme, the replacement incorporating an improved alloy developed and produced by Kuat Drive Yards' metallurgical subsidiaries. According to the data, the new alloy could provide armored protection equal to the previous alloy used, but for only a third of the weight.

There had been some skepticism at such a claim, but when Lord Vader – or rather _Emperor_ Vader – had personally reviewed the data and inspected production facilities and questioned the technicians and engineers involved, such skepticism faded away. Had the claims been fabricated or exaggerated in any way, there would have been plenty of fatalities. As there had been none, then Kuat Drive Yards (KDY) was clearly telling the truth on their new development.

The shuttle flew past the ship's stern, and then gracefully turning dropped altitude, passing by and across the ship's primary engines. The engines had also been replaced in the refit, as were the ship's maneuvering thrusters, reactors, and electricals. The latter were only a matter of course, given the new propulsion systems had an increased draw on power, for all that they did not require any more or less space than the previous system used. The hull also needed additional reinforcement, to keep up with the thirty per cent increase in thrust and maneuvering capability that the new systems provided.

Together with the new armor scheme, the increased reinforcement would greatly improve the flagship's durability.

The shuttle flew sedately along the ventral hull, which as before the refit largely unadorned. Most of the ship's guns and other externalities were located on the dorsal hull, though the ventral hull did sport a number of gun batteries of its own. It was something the rebels had taken advantage of in the past, requiring large numbers of fighters to cover the exposed underbelly of the ship.

Still…the improved armor and hull reinforcement would certainly reduce that vulnerability. That, and the new targeting software developed by KDY's electronics subsidiary, which would give Piett's flagship, and other ships which underwent similar refits in the future, targeting capability rivaling that of dedicated screens like the _Lancer_ Class Frigate, or the CR90 Corellian Corvette favored by the rebels and (legitimate) private security forces.

That is not to say that screens would be going out of fashion anytime soon, but capital ships would certainly be less vulnerable on their own, once the new targeting software began to be disseminated across the fleet.

Approaching one of the ventral hangar bays, the shuttle serenely slowed to a halt before ascending through the opening, its wings folding up to their rest position. Gliding forward on repulsorlifts, the shuttle landed with a soft thud some distance from the opening. "We have landed, sir." The pilot said.

"Noted." The Grand Admiral said, already leaving the cockpit.

* * *

A double file of Stormtroopers and staff officers greeted Piett's disembarking on his flagship, the Grand Admiral greeting them with a salute as he stepped past. Pausing as he reached the end of the line, he gestured the honor guard dismissed, and accompanied by his staff officers crossed the hangar to a series of TIE Interceptors being worked on.

Technicians and pilots alike stood to attention at the Grand Admiral's arrival, Piett gesturing them to stand easy in a moment. Staring up at the TIE Interceptors, Piett then turned to the squadron commander. "Your name, young man?" he asked.

"Captain Kamari Bright, sir!" the man said with a salute.

Piett returned the salute and then gestured at the interceptors. "These are all new models, aren't they?" he asked.

"Yes sir." The captain said. "Though apart from deflector shields and necessary adjustments for those, there's not much different from older interceptor models."

"Hmm…" Piett hummed in response.

TIE Interceptors had long been slated to fully replace the TIE Fighter, but the sheer number of the latter in service meant it was taking longer than expected to do so. And what's more, after recent developments in the Unknown Regions, the Admiralty had finally decided to follow Grand Admiral Thrawn's example, that of equipping their TIE Interceptors with deflector shields, where once they would have relied only on their mobility and light armor for protection.

That would further delay replacement of the TIE Fighter with the TIE Interceptor, not that Piett had any real problem with the idea of equipping the TIE Interceptor with deflector shields. It would certainly sharpen the edge it already had against most rebel fighters, and would be very helpful against… _them_.

Piett suppressed a shudder at the thought of the true enemy, known only to the very highest echelons of Imperial power. Even the rebels were but a side show compared to them, and indeed, the Force or the gods or any benevolent supernatural being help the galaxy if the rebels somehow succeeded in turning back the clock to return to the undisciplined, pacifist, corrupt and disorderly days of the Old Republic.

"Perhaps captain," Piett forced himself to say. "But just having shields alone would be a significant boost to our capabilities. Especially since our ship's entire complement of fighters is now composed of TIE Interceptors."

"As you say, sir." The man said with a grin. "The rebel scum won't know what hit them."

Piett allowed himself a smile and a nod at the pilot's confidence. "Indeed," Piett said. "Carry on."

"Yes, sir!"

The man and his subordinates saluted, and returning the salute Piett strode away followed by his staff officers. "I want to visit engineering before heading up to the bridge." He said.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Piett strode down the bridge's command aisle, past crew pits where junior officers, petty officers, and crew busied themselves at their stations. The inspection of engineering had gone well, random questioning of the crew clearly indicating they knew what they were doing, and in many cases had plenty of experience under their belts. The Chief Engineer in particular, was somewhat older than Piett (though not so much that he was worried), with years of service going back to the Clone Wars, having started out as a lowly reactor technician aboard a _Venator_ Class Star Destroyer and working his way up the ranks to become chief engineer aboard a Star Dreadnought.

That same Star Dreadnought's captain greeted Piett with a salute as the Grand Admiral approached, Piett nodding once at the man before walking past to stand in front of the bridge windows. For several moments, Piett just stared out into space in silence, and then reaching forward patted the transparisteel windows with veiled affection.

"You've been cooped up for years, haven't you, old girl?" Piett whispered. "Don't worry, you'll be back where you belong in just a bit."

Smiling and briefly closing his eyes, Piett turned to glance at his flagship's captain. "Take us out of dock, captain." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." The captain said before turning to address the bridge. "All hands, commence launch procedures."

"Aye, aye, sir." A young woman in a lieutenant's uniform said over at the communications section. Pressing a finger against her comlink, she opened a line to dock control. "Dock Control, this Delta One. Request permission to launch."

"Delta One," Dock Control responded. "You are clear for launch."

"Roger, Dock Control." the lieutenant said before addressing the captain. "We are clear to launch."

"Helm, take us out of the dock." The captain ordered. "Maneuvering thrusters only, but standby on main engines, one quarter ahead once we're clear."

"Aye, sir." Helm responded. As controls were adjusted, the mighty engines to the rear of the Star Dreadnought roared to life, glowing plasma flaring out into space as they entered into standby mode. Across the ship crew proceeded with their duties, engineering in particular keeping a close eye on technical displays as they managed the performance of the ship's new propulsion and power systems.

"Grand Admiral," the captain said, turning back to Piett. "I'd be honored if you gave the word."

Piett stared at the younger man for a few moments before nodding, and then turned to face the whole bridge. "Name ship of the _Executor_ Class," he said. " _Executor_ , on sortie."

Across the docks, eyes turned to the mighty Star Dreadnought, first of her class, as she began to slide out of the dock. Floodlights shone down on sleek lines and the glittering cityscape of the dagger-like vessel, maneuvering thrusters flaring in smooth succession as they gently nudged her out into space. The shadows of the dock gave way to the brilliant glow of the planet below, illuminating the _Executor_ in all her glory as she emerged once more into open space. Primary engines bloomed with plasma as they took over the task of driving the mighty Star Dreadnought through space, the great ship turning with unexpected grace as she broke orbit and headed out to rejoin the fleet.

* * *

Lightsabers crackled and hummed as they clashed with each other, a young man in black fatigues crossing blades with a similarly-dressed pair of young women with elfin features. Ben Solo or as he was once known 'Kylo Ren' swung his lightsaber in great crimson arcs, powerful blows crashing like hammers against the lightsabers of Inquisitors Tael and Mael, the Sephi parrying Ben's blows and striking back whenever the opportunity presented itself.

The match was at a stalemate: Ben was faster and stronger than the two Sephi, but the twin inquisitors were abusing the hell out of their Force Bond as much as it was worth. When one went high, the other went low. When one blocked, the other counterattacked. It was taking all of Ben's effort to near-simultaneously attack and defend, and even then the result was stalemate.

It was incredibly frustrating…and also very satisfying.

Frustrating, that a pair of mere inquisitors were able to stalemate him. Satisfying, because he knew that his potential was far greater than theirs, and if this was his _current_ limit, then if he defeated them, then he would have _surpassed_ that limit.

One more step…one more step, to achieving his ultimate goal of becoming one of the Lords of the Sith.

 _Snoke…Supreme Leader…I don't need you anymore. But perhaps we will see each other again…before I drive my saber through your heart._

Grunting with exertion, Ben quickly switched to a one-handed grip, crossing his arms to brace the other while blocking a two-handed blow. The other inquisitor swung at Ben…

…and was sent flying by a powerful telekinetic blast from Ben's free hand. "Mael!" Tael shouted in alarm.

"Don't get distracted!" Ben snarled, pushing the inquisitor back before launching a ferocious counterattack. Part of his training involved drilling in the first six styles (the seventh, Juyo, would be taught by Lady Invictus when – _if_ – Ben rose to become a Sith) of lightsaber combat, but while Ben found himself with an aptitude for them all, he favored the fifth. Djem So. The Way of the Krayt Dragon. The Perseverance Form.

Feeding off his rage, Ben's power swelled in the Dark Side of the Force, hammering at Tael with powerful blows that steadily drove the inquisitor back. Each blow came faster and stronger, the inquisitor's guard increasingly sloppy and desperate…

…the snap-hiss of a lightsaber coming to life warned Ben, along with the whispered warnings from the Force. Ducking down, he narrowly avoided a diagonal swing, and kicked out a Force-powered kick that again, sent Mael flying.

More whispered warnings echoed from the Force, and Ben cursed as he sloppily blocked a counterattack from Tael. Giving way a few steps, he allowed the inquisitor to regain the initiative, before locking blades and throwing her back.

Mael came in before he could take the initiative, Ben blocking several blows before jumping back yet again as Tael charged in with a swing. Falling to one knee, Ben roared while slamming a fist into the ground, the entire room shaking from the impact and staggering the inquisitors.

Stone cracked as Ben kicked off in a crouch, like a sprinter, closing the distance in the blink of an eye, his lightsaber rising up in a glowing arc. The twins, caught off balance and off guard, were forced to give way, Ben keeping up the pressure and hammering at his opponents with powerful overhead blows and two-handed diagonal swings.

Desperation showed on the twins' faces as they sloppily tried to keep back the ferocious onslaught, and then turned to determination. In the blink of an eye strength returned to their arms, lightsabers no longer wavering with every blow from Ben. He still had the initiative, but the twins were finally able to regain their footing, and seemingly restoring the stalemate from earlier.

Ben snarled in frustration, bringing down his lightsaber in a two-handed blow which the twins caught in a cross between their lightsabers. For a long moment, the three blades crackled against each other, and with a brutal motion, Ben knocked the lightsabers from their hands and sent them flying to one side…

…and then he himself was sent flying by a powerful telekinetic shove from the twins, across the practice grounds, to slam against the far wall with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. As he staggered forward, Ben shook his head to clear it, and then with a gasp he looked to see the twins leaping through the air, lightsabers recovered and ablaze.

An attempt to bring his lightsaber up was aborted, Tael landing to one side and forcing Ben's lightsaber down and away. Mael landed to Ben's other side, lightsaber arcing at his throat in the blink of an eye…only to stop barely an inch away.

"You lose." The twins chorused.

For several moments there was silence, Ben fuming and grinding at his teeth. "What's the score?" he finally ground out.

"Eight-three," Mael answered. "In our favor, of course."

"Draws don't count." Tael added.

The twins stepped back, keeping their lightsabers ignited but held in a low, relaxed stance. Ben stood where he was, seething and fuming, but instead of lashing out as he once might have, he simply roared in frustration after a few moments and switched his lightsaber off.

"One of these days," he seethed, pointing at the twins. "I am going to end that lead of years, and then I am going to kick your asses."

"Yes, I'm sure you will." Tael said with a grin.

"Though," Mael said with a seductive pose. "I think we'll enjoy our asses getting slapped over having them getting kicked, if you get what I mean."

Ben just growled and ran a hand through his hair, and with a laugh the twins deactivated their sabers as well. "Come on Solo," Tael said. "Let's get something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

Ben grunted as he fell in with the twins. "Any news I should know about?" he asked.

"I don't know." Tael said with a shrug. "Go watch the Holonet, I'm sure you have a connection in your room."

"News on the Holonet isn't everything."

"Ah," Tael said with a nod. "I see what you mean. Then no, we have nothing new on the Rebellion…yet. I'm sure that bunch will stir something up soon enough though."

"Or the Knights of Ren, and the First Order for that matter."

Two pairs of golden eyes regarded Ben coolly, but Ben just looked deadpan. "I don't care about them anymore," he said, his own irises dull gold instead of burning as they were earlier. "Well, not really…I wouldn't mind if…Lady Invictus, or His Majesty eventually gave me a chance to tie up loose ends. Assuming they're still around when I finish training, of course."

Of all that he had achieved ever since he'd been taken in by the Inquisitorius, the proudest Ben had was finally having his eyes marked by the Dark Side of the Force. Invictus had surprised him that night, asking him to meet her at the upper levels of the Imperial Palace, to meditate with her. Surprised, and confused, he was elated to discover that meditation was also a means with which to learn the Sith Code.

 _Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

 _Through passion I gain strength._

 _Through strength I gain power._

 _Through power I gain victory._

 _Through victory my chains are broken._

 _The Force shall free me._

It had seemed but a moment, immersed in the darkness and warmth of the Force, eternal and infinite, the Sith Code reverberating into its depths just _once_ , and then his mother had ended the meditation. A brief flare of annoyance was followed by utter shock, as he opened his eyes to the bright light of the morning. Somehow, seven hours and more had passed in the blink of an eye, his mother's laughter echoing in the morning breeze.

 _In the Force, time is meaningless. Oh and congratulations._

He didn't know what she meant by that last, until he'd returned to his room and looked into a mirror…and found a pair of golden irises staring at him from his own eyes. At last…at long last…

…the Dark Side had found him worthy.

"…I think they might let you have a go." Mael was saying. "Though somehow I get the feeling Lady Invictus is going to want to deal with that Smoke fellow, or whatever his name was."

" _Snoke_ ," Ben corrected absent-mindedly. "His name is Snoke…huh…there's a fight I'd like to watch. A Lady of the Sith against the Supreme Leader of the First Order."

"If it even _is_ a fight." Tael said, her face serious. "I've seen Lady Invictus fight seriously before, against that Jedi Knight, Luke Skywalker. It was…terrifying…"

Ben stayed silent, the twin inquisitors falling silent beside him, the young man's eyes narrowing in a moment at that name. " _Luke…Skywalker…_ " he thought.

* * *

"Forty metric tons of food rations," Rey said, reading the cargo manifest out loud. "Another forty metric tons of seeds for edible plants, one disassembled protein synthesizer plant, and one disassembled hydroponics bay…"

Rey lowered the cargo manifest and glanced curiously at her new employer. "I thought you were a smuggler." She said.

Han Solo looked unimpressed. "Hey, shout it out for all the galaxy to hear, won't you?" he asked. "And more importantly, I prefer 'free trader', thank you very much."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Chewie moaned something out before beginning to laugh, and causing Han to roll his eyes before beginning to mutter to himself. "Alright, alright, I get it." Rey said, setting the cargo manifest aside before walking off to help Chewie start loading the cargo. "But this is for the Outer Rim, isn't it?"

"Yeah, a farming colony not far from the Koda Spur's terminus at Koda Station." Han said. "Anyway, we don't have to rush, but seeing as we're carrying rations, we shouldn't be late either. Hey Chewie, did you uh…load the personal stuff?"

A moan had Han nodding in satisfaction. "Alright," he said. "Get ready for takeoff, I'll go help out our newest crew member."

Another moan and Han was walking off to help Rey.

* * *

Han thumped the deck and Rey raised an eyebrow as the deck plating popped open. "You get around huh?" Han asked. "If you're not surprised by something like this."

"Not really…"

"…let me guess, in that…other universe, Invictus told me about, you met another me? And…um, seen this before?"

"Pretty much."

Han sighed. "Well, what are the chances?" he said, jumping down. "Well, just in case we meet my…other self, what's he like?"

"I only knew him for a few hours or so," Rey said. "But he was very much like you."

"…no kidding?"

"No, really, he was. Though…he seemed wiser, considering he's much older than you are."

Han stood still for a moment, not sure what to make of that. "Right..." he finally said.

"So…what exactly are we smuggling? Or should I say, trading freely?"

Han held up a bottle of dark red fluid, and picking it up Rey glanced at the label. "Moonshine?" she asked.

"It's not moonshine," Han said, taking the bottle of alcohol back and stowing it again. "For one thing, it was legitimately produced."

"But…it's not legitimately distributed, is it?"

"…that's why it's called free trading."

Rey thought this over for a few moments and then shrugged. "Right," she said. "Free trading."

"Anyway," Han said, climbing out of the hidden hold and helping Rey seal it back up. "As a junior partner in our little group, you get twenty-five per cent of all profits. So better get used to calling yourself a free trader too, Rey, at least here in the core."

"But on the rim?"

"The rim is the rim…" Han said, leading the way to the cockpit and sitting down in the pilot's seat. Chewie grunted a few times while handing Han a checklist. He looked at it a few times, while pressing certain buttons and flipping a few switches, Chewie doing likewise. "…yeah, that'll do."

Han glanced back at Rey and nudged his head at the navigator's seat. "Well, don't just stand around there, strap yourself in." he said, and Rey did as asked. Moments later, the ship hummed to life, repulsorlifts lifting the _Millennium Falcon_ clear of the docking bay, up into the skies, and into outer space.

* * *

A/N

Name ship of the _Executor_ Class, _Executor_ , on sortie!

Yeah, I was basically fangirling over the _Executor_ for about half this chapter. You can blame a responder on SB for that, specifically a comment on how long-suffering Piett and his lady ship's fates are so closely entwined. After reading that, I found myself reflecting and coming to the conclusion that no matter how much Star Destroyers are associated with the bad guys, they are the iconic capital ship for Star Wars. Mon Calamari Star Cruisers might be the rebels' preferred capital ships, but they fail to capture the heart the way Imperial Star Destroyers do. And the greatest of them all is the _Executor_.

Yes, I know she's a Star Dreadnought, and not actually a Star Destroyer. But that's a matter of semantics, as Star Dreadnoughts are also known as 'Super _Star Destroyers_ '. I also know the _Eclipse_ Class outclasses them but…the _Executor_ and her class are more iconic. And now, I made them even more powerful: vastly-improved armor, reinforced hulls, one-third times faster and more maneuverable, superior targeting, shielded TIE Interceptors…

…to quote Ben Kingsley, oh yes, it's good to be bad.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Wars_ , it is owned by Disney.

Shadows Rising

Chapter 2

The gloved fist swung through the air and then struck Poe on the right side of his face, knocking the commander down to the ground. "You understand why I struck you, right?" Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and a General of the Rebel Alliance asked, shaking his hand. "Freedom of initiative is all well and good, but not when it becomes outright insubordination, and when it gets your allies slaughtered on the battlefield."

"I did what I thought was right." Poe said, wiping at his mouth before looking up at the general. After a moment, he sighed and looked away. "And I was wrong."

"Yes, you were." Luke said, looking down at Poe sternly. At a gesture, Poe got to his feet, while Luke shook his head. "Until ordered otherwise, you are relieved of command, and confined to quarters. You'll have your chance to explain yourself at the court-martial, commander."

"Court-martial?" Poe echoed. "But general, I…"

"That will be all, commander." Luke interrupted, and after another moment Poe sighed, saluted, and then walked off. Luke followed with his eyes, sensing the other pilot's frustrations as he left, and then shaking his head and with a sigh of his own, Luke walked off to rejoin the rest of the senior staff at the command deck.

"Poe is one of my best." General Organa began after Luke sat down. "He's impulsive and headstrong, but there's no questioning his skills as a pilot or his loyalty to our cause."

"Yes, he is." Jedi Master Luke Skywalker said with a nod. "I can see that much, just by looking at him. But…"

The Jedi Master paused, rubbing at his wrist, eyes falling onto the mechanical prosthetic that was Master Skywalker's right hand. "…he's too reckless. Too proud and full of himself." He finally said. "In a way, I can all but see myself in him, like I was back at Hoth all those years ago."

"…who took it?" Luke asked quietly. "Your hand? An inquisitor, or…?"

Master Skywalker smiled sardonically. "You can see, can't you?" he asked, and Luke winced and nodded, as the Forces briefly echoed with sounds and images, of a lightsaber duel deep in the mechanical bowels of a city, a Jedi and a Sith Lord crossing blades and the latter taking the former's hand, before words were exchanged and a revelation shattered everything the Jedi had thought to be true.

"That said," General Organa began with an unhappy tone. "No matter how bad things turned out at Bespin, it's not nearly as bad as what Poe's actions have cost us recently. We lost a cruiser, six transports, and fourteen frigates. And one of the latter was a specialist vessel, specifically a medical one."

"To say nothing of costing us our bomber force." Admiral Ackbar glumly added. "And those transports also carried much of our disassembled infrastructure. Factoring in the manpower losses…"

The admiral trailed off, but it was clear: complete and utter disaster. "If we court-martial him," General Organa said softly. "He's likely going to be sentenced to death."

"Not necessarily," Luke said after a moment. "We do have…penal units, and they're short on officers."

"Penal units?" some other members of the senior staff echoed.

Admiral Gall coughed delicately. "As noble as our cause might be," he said. "It cannot be denied that there will always be problem cases, one way or another, among our forces. And we are not so blessed with manpower that we can always be…discerning, with our recruitment, nor can we be…so final, with the enforcement of discipline in the ranks."

"So you organize these 'problem cases' into penal forces?" General Organa echoed with mixed horror and disgust.

"As a punishment, yes." Admiral Gall said grimly. "Rest assured, it's not something any of us here or at Alliance Command particularly enjoy doing, whether assigning people to the 'Last Chance' battalions, or their very existence at all."

"And it's not like we just dump people into their ranks arbitrarily." Luke added. "It's a punishment, so people who end up in there do get a court-martial with official charges and legal representation, plus an appeal to Alliance Command, before being sent to those battalions."

"What crimes could possibly warrant the existence of such units though?" one senior staff member challenged.

"Crimes against civilians, usually." Luke immediately answered. "Rape, looting, massacre and such…and crimes against POWs too. We're not the empire."

"And yet even the empire doesn't use penal battalions." Another senior staff member challenged.

"No, but they don't have manpower issues, the way we do." Admiral Gall said.

"And these…penal battalions," General Organa said. "What exactly is their role? Cannon fodder? Sacrificial units?"

"Not cannon fodder," Luke said with a shake of his head. "They're not considered expendable, and get proper supplies and equipment of their own. Nor are they sacrificed meaninglessly: the nickname of 'Last Chance' isn't just for show."

"In short," a senior staff member said. "It's their last chance to do something meaningful for the cause. So they are sacrificial units."

"You could argue that," Luke reluctantly conceded. "But we don't throw away their lives like they're worth nothing. And the survival rate is much higher than you might think. They're actually some of our best troops, honed by the most dangerous missions so much so that despite being first pick by Alliance Command for high-risk missions, confidence in their success is fairly high."

Even with that, however, the Resistance members still looked uneasy, though after a few moments General Organa gave a delicate cough. "Earlier," she said. "You mentioned 'most' when describing the members of those penal battalions. So there are exceptions?"

"The exceptions are their commanding officers, along with other personnel such as support units." Admiral Gall replied.

"Is there no way to leave the penal battalions?" a senior staff member asked. "Outside of a body bag, that is?"

"It's a judicial punishment." Luke said. "A wartime and thus provisional measure, but still a judicial punishment. If you can earn a pardon…"

That seemed to mollify the Resistance commanders somewhat. "In any case," General Organa said. "As distasteful as the penal battalions are, the argument of limited manpower for our forces is a valid one. And while we can talk about it here, even if we decide to argue against them, we won't be able to do anything unless we address the Alliance Command itself."

Admiral Ackbar nodded, along with the other Resistance commanders. "Then perhaps we should move onto the key topic," he said. "Specifically, that of our integration into the Rebel Alliance. Strategically-speaking, having two separate organizations acting against the empire independently of each other is a far from ideal situation. Not only do we risk being destroyed one by one, we may inadvertently act against each other, or even be played against each other by the empire…or the First Order."

"That said," General Organa said with a nod. "The Resistance has been active for some time now, and our integration into the alliance has to bring that into consideration."

"Alliance Command had considered that." Luke said with a nod. "On that note, no rank changes will be made, beyond those to the alliance equivalent for organizational reasons."

"That is understandable." Admiral Ackbar said with a nod.

"With regard to unit commands," Luke continued. "No changes will be made from field grade commands and down…"

" _Essentially a show of trust in our judgment,_ " General Organa thought. " _For our tactical-level commands…though with Poe's antics just now…_ "

"…however," Luke continued with a slightly-apologetic expression on his face. "With regard to flag commands and equivalent posts, no guarantees can be made, and will have to be determined individually during integration of our two organizations. That said, Alliance Command is willing to negotiate on this matter, and we could contact Sanctuary to…"

"No, that won't be necessary." Leia interrupted. "I understand the organizational difficulties that prevent a blanket accommodation like with field commands and below. And in any case, I have faith in the alliance's judgment. We'll deal with the issue of flag commands and such in cooperation with the alliance."

Luke and Admiral Gall nodded, and then Luke smiled slightly. "In any case," he said, glancing between General Organa and Admiral Ackbar. "I don't think either of you, general, admiral, will have anything to worry. Mon Mothma was quite eager to meet both of you, and of course, uh…that is, our universe's Admiral Ackbar was quite curious about how your meeting will go."

Admiral Ackbar chuckled and nodded as General Organa smiled fondly at the mention of Mon Mothma. "I'm sure I'll be quite the disappointment then." Admiral Ackbar said. "No, there is no need to deny it. We managed to defeat our empire…and yet could do nothing to stop the New Republic from letting it all be for nothing."

"With respect sir," Admiral Gall began. "I do not think it's particularly any fault of yours. From what I have learned of the situation in your universe, it was the politicians' naïveté which ultimately led to the downfall of the New Republic. There was nothing that you could have done."

"I agree, admiral." Luke said with a nod. "You only did as a soldier of democracy should have done: quietly followed the lead of the civilian government."

"Knight Skywalker is correct." Master Skywalker added his support. "A key element of democratic government is civilian control of the government and military. While soldiers have their individual rights, they rightly should have no direct say beyond that of suffrage in the handling of political matters, except and only when it comes to questions of morality. And even then, there is a fine line which must be carefully respected."

"A question of morality?" General Organa echoed.

"To do nothing, or make a stand," Master Skywalker continued. "And how to make that stand…the end result, is the Resistance. You could have done otherwise, like say, launched a coup against the government, and forcibly opened its eyes and moved its arms against the First Order…but if you'd done that…"

Master Skywalker trailed off, and the Resistance leaders slowly nodded in understanding and agreement. "Yes," General Organa said softly. "I see your point."

Admiral Ackbar bowed slightly at Admiral Gall and Luke. "Thank you," he said. "I had not considered that angle."

"You are welcome, admiral." Admiral Gall said with a small bow of his own.

"On another note," one of the Resistance commanders said while leaning forward. "If we're going to be joining the alliance, then aside from issues on rank and leadership, there's also issues that need to be addressed over communications, security, and connected to the earlier discussion on penal battalions, discipline, organization, and regulation."

"On that matter," Luke said, pulling out a small container from a pocket and sliding it across the table. "Alliance Command has agreed to this show of good faith."

General Organa took the container, and opened it to pull out a data storage device. "Our communication and encoding protocols." Luke said. "In return, we ask for your trust, and that you allow us to escort you to one of our rallying points in the Outer Rim."

General Organa glanced at her fellow Resistance leaders, and then to Master Skywalker who nodded encouragingly at her. Turning back to Luke, she nodded at him. "You have it." She said. "Take us to the rendezvous point."

Luke nodded back, and smiled. "Thanks for trusting us." He said. "In a time when the alliance is on the ropes and we cannot afford to take too many chances, trust is such a rare thing and something to be really cherished."

General Organa smiled back. "I understand." She said. "And you're welcome."

* * *

"I'm surprised," Finn said, while eating with other Resistance and alliance members in a mess room. "The empire allows for non-government and non-military use of the holonet? If I remember right, didn't they use to restrict its use for themselves?"

"Yeah," one of the men he was eating with said while glancing at the holo-projector showing a pod-race in progress. "Key words there being 'use to'…one of the first things Vader did when he took control after Palpatine was killed was reopen the holonet for civilian use."

"…there's a catch there, isn't there?" Finn asked.

"Force yeah," the other man replied cheerfully. "Imperial Intelligence got a bigger budget come the next budget meeting."

"Figures," another man said. "Reopening the holonet lets Vader get some good points with the public, when in fact Imperial Intelligence is going to be keeping an even closer eye on what people say and do."

"And like the dumb sheep they are," the first man said in disgust. "People can't see the latter and just happily lick the dirt off Vader and his little whore's boots."

"…whore?"

"Invictus," the second man clarified. "Grand Marshal of the Empire, and Lady of the Sith."

"And the nastiest bitch you'll ever meet…or you'll pray not to meet." The first man added. "The stories I've heard…"

The man trailed off and shuddered. "So…compared to Vader…she's bad…?" Finn slowly asked.

"Vader will just kill you." The second man said. "Invictus would turn you into a slave…without you even realizing it."

"At least that's what the stories say." The third man cheerfully added. "You never know with these things, considering all the shit the imps throw out. Who knows if those stories are true or just stuff the imps are throwing out to make Vader's little whore look more powerful than she might actually be?"

"Hey now…" the first man began only to be cut off by the third man, who gestured at the holo-projector.

"Speaking of shit," he said. "Here comes one now."

Eyes turned to the hologram as solemn, military music played on the speakers, TIE Fighters being shown flying past in parade formation on the hologram. The words 'Join the Navy' zoomed out from the middle of the image, which then shifted to Star Destroyers flying past.

"Have you ever wanted to see the galaxy?" a narrator asked. "Earn life experience? Make your dreams come true? Now you can! Join the Imperial Navy and do all those and more!"

The image shifted to a young woman with a military bearing, dressed in a TIE pilot's pressure suit minus the helmet, which was hooked to her belt, who then turned away from the TIE Defender she was helping to maintain to face the camera. "Ever since I was a little girl," she said while walking towards the camera. "Ever since the day I first saw a spacecraft, I've always wanted to fly in space. That dream led me to the Imperial Navy…and here I am, where I've always dreamed to be."

"We were always told we'd amount to nothing," one of a group of pilots clustered around a dropship said to the camera. "That we'd always be nothing more that street rats…but when we joined the navy, they taught us duty and honor, gave us direction in our lives, and made us into men that everyone can look up to."

"So, what's the catch?" a young civilian woman asked.

"No catches." The narrator answered, the camera moving backward slowly as a trio fresh out of school, two Humans and a Zeltron, approached with interest. "The only requirements for applying to join the Navy are a) be at least twenty standard years old, b) have completed the legally-mandated primary and secondary levels of education, c) have no pending or unserved criminal cases, d) be in good physical and mental health, and e) pass the naval service aptitude test."

"When I first joined the navy," a Twi'lek doctor in a naval uniform began while inspecting newly-arrived crates of medication. "I never expected to find my first, decade-long assignment to be helping people out on the frontier. Those people didn't have access to such simple necessities as droids or bacta, and were always living under the threat of being wiped out by local warlords or natural calamities. It was hard and trying work to give them real hope for the future, but in those ten years I found fulfilment where I least expected it, and how I least expected to serve the empire."

"See, viewers?" the narrator challenged as the doctor went back to his work. "There's more than one way to serve the empire."

"Joining the Navy was always out of a sense of duty for me." A redheaded woman identified as Admiral Natasi Daala said while striding across the bridge of a Star Destroyer orbiting a planet. "But I understand that not everyone can be satisfied with that motivation. And that's nothing to be ashamed of. Because in the Imperial Navy, so long as you have talent, so long as you're willing to put all you have to do what it takes, we can always find a place for you, and bring out the best in you."

"So what are you waiting for?" the narrator asked as the music rose to a stirring crescendo, TIE Fighters flying across a sunset on the hologram. "Sign up! Do your part! Be part of something bigger!"

"You think you have what it takes to be part of the Imperial Navy?" the TIE Defender pilot from earlier challenged before grinning and saluting at the camera. "Join us and find out. See you on the battlefield, pilot!"

As the recruitment video came to an end, Finn found himself staring. And he could only say a single word.

"…wow."

* * *

TIE Bombers soared down, proton rockets streaking out from their launchers to explode on the ground, sending mushroom clouds pluming into the air and bodies and debris flying. Behind the TIE Bombers came TIE Fighters, laser cannons lashing out as they strafed the rebel lines, explosions pluming into the air in lines across the ground, Imperial Stormtroopers rushing forward in a white wave to overwhelm the fractured rebel forces.

Stormtrooper transports soared down, escorted by TIE Interceptors, making landfall _behind_ enemy lines, and quickly unloaded more Stormtroopers, who almost immediately began attacking the rebel forces. As the rebels found themselves being overrun, a green lightsaber ignited on the battlefield.

Jedi Master Quinlan Vos led the counterattack, running out of the Imperial Intelligence listening post they'd come to this unnamed planet on the Outer Rim to attack, only to be surprised and trapped when Imperial reinforcements arrived sooner than expected. Or so the Imperials thought. Vos though, still had a few tricks up his sleeve, enough to pull off a victory and make the loss of so many lives mean something.

Even if it meant he himself would either die or fall into the hands of the empire.

Vos' lightsaber was an emerald glow through the air as he charged at the head of his crack team of commandoes, harmlessly parrying the Imperials' laser fire away from him. And then leaping through the air, he landed in the midst of the nearest group of Stormtroopers, Vos' lightsaber swinging and chopping in a near-invisible blur, leaving white-armored bodies falling to the ground in pieces, melted plasteel armor and cauterized flesh steaming.

More Stormtroopers rushed, blasters blazing. Vos deflected a pair of bolts headed his way, but as a rebel commando nearby fell the Jedi Master flung a hand out towards the Stormtroopers who were hurled away through the air as though struck.

TIE Fighters swooped down, laser cannons blazing. Vos leapt out of the way as laser bolts lanced down, rolling across the ground as explosions erupted behind. The Force whispered warnings as Vos got to his feet, and he spun his lightsaber to turn a blaster bolt back to the Stormtrooper who fired it.

Another transport was coming in, and Vos narrowed his eyes, feeling the darkness within. He wouldn't be disappointed, as it landed some distance away, a Twi'lek stepping out before igniting a blood-red lightsaber. More inquisitors followed, hoods raised and faces concealed behind enclosing helmets reminiscent of those used by the Sith Empire during the Great Galactic War thousands of years ago.

Lightsabers ignited, and Vos gave a Makashi Salute as the inquisitors charged. Vos waited for them to come to him, standing in a Form One stance, but as they passed a certain point, instantly switched to a modified, Form Seven stance before leaping forward himself, spinning through the air to land right in front of the inquisitors.

The first inquisitor fell, literally losing his head before he could even try and block Vos' opening strike. The next inquisitor blocked Vos' attack, only to be left open to a powerful, telekinetic blast strong enough to break bone and crush flesh.

A third inquisitor was able to tie Vos down, exchanging several blows with the Jedi Master, Form Five against Vos' modified Form Seven, but Vos was quickly forced to disengage as the two other inquisitors charged in from the flanks. Backing away several steps and staying on the defensive to regain his focus, Vos allowed himself to sink fully into Vaapad, and returned to the offensive.

Moments later and one inquisitor was crying out as her right hand was severed at the wrist, the cry turning to a scream as Vos severed her legs at the knees as well. A blow from the rear was blocked, Vos dragging his lightsaber free before swinging around and trying to cut the inquisitor in half.

Another blood-red blade blocked Vos' strike, and again Vos was forced to fight two on one. Vos again gave way, blocking as he stepped back several steps, and then locking both of his opponents' blades on his own lashed out with the Force, and sent the inquisitors flying.

That left only the most dangerous opponent left, the Twi'lek who thus far had stayed out of the fight. "Who are you?" Vos demanded.

"High Inquisitor Atelmizif," the Twi'lek replied. "But you, Jedi…I know who you are. Quinlan Vos, Jedi Master and a former general in the Grand Army of the Republic. And now a general in the Rebel Alliance."

Vos smiled without mirth. "It seems my reputation has preceded me." He said. "Well, we know how this is going to go, so let's get to it, shall we?"

"If you know how this will end," Atelmizif asked. "Then why not just surrender? It is pointless to resist, and I was under the impression that you Jedi valued…non-violence, whenever possible."

"That was the rule," Vos admitted. "Or should I say…guideline? And it never applied to darksiders anyway."

"…I see."

Vos again leapt through the air, lightsaber coming down in a two-handed blow. Atelmizif stepped back, dodging the opening strike, and raised his lightsaber to block the follow through. The next blow was blocked, then the next, and then the next, the high inquisitor staying on the defensive and backing away step by step, before sidestepping another blow, and around Vos to his rear.

Vos continued to press the offensive, hammering away at the high inquisitor's defenses, Atelmizif keeping a tight defense around him with Form Three, blocking any and all attacks made by the Jedi Master. At the same time, he kept a good eye out, waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of.

Finally, it came, Atelmizif striking out to lock Vos' blade in place with his own, and for a few moments, they struggled against each other, both trying to overpower the other, until Atemizif seemed to give way only to hurl Vos back, the Jedi Master stumbling a few steps back. The opening was enough, Atelmizif lashing out with a torrent of Force Lightning from one hand.

Vos caught most of the bolts with his lightsaber, crying out in pain as they rest flowed around his blade and found purchase on his flesh. Struggling against the pain, Vos slowly brought his lightsaber up, to allow it to catch all of the lightning, and on regaining his focus, along with the Force redirected the lightning back to its caster.

This time it was Atelmizif's turn to cry out in pain as he was struck by his own lightning. But typically for a darksider, the high inquisitor fed off his pain and turned it to hate and fury, increasing the intensity of his lightning only for Vos to throw it back at him, the increased pain further fueling Atelmizif's pain and power.

The stalemate could have continued for much longer, Atelmizif striking with the power of the Dark Side and Vos redirecting it back, had not another inquisitor from earlier thrown his lightsaber at Vos. Vos was forced to break away, deflecting the thrown weapon but leaving him vulnerable to Atelmizif's Force Lightning.

The bolts coursed over Vos' body, the Jedi Master crying out as he struggled to bring his lightsaber to bear, only for another inquisitor to charge in. Blood-red struck, severing Vos' right hand at the wrist, and a telekinetic, uppercut-like blow sent Vos reeling.

A stun blast knocked him to the ground, and before he could use the Force to shrug it off he felt heavy boots run up to him, and stun cuffs being placed around his wrist before being lifted to his feet. Pain-clouded eyes beheld one inquisitor standing before him along with the singed and panting Atelmizif, and Stormtroopers all around.

Then Atelmizif struck out with his fist, and darkness fell.

* * *

"You have done well, High Inquisitor Atelmizif," Grand Inquisitor Barriss Offee's hologram told the kneeling high inquisitor. "His Majesty will be most pleased at our capture of yet another survivor of the Great Jedi Purge. And not just any survivor, a Jedi Master no less."

"I am honored by your praise." Atelmizif said, head bowed.

"The loss of two inquisitors, and the effective loss of another, however," Barriss continued. "It tarnishes your achievement. That said, it is not truly your fault. They were simply not strong enough to stand against a Jedi Master. A shame, but these things happen in war."

"Yes, my lady."

"In any case, I have new orders for you."

"I exist to serve."

Barriss nodded. "Inquisitors Aphra and Jafher will escort the prisoner back to Imperial Center." She said. "You however, will proceed to the Outer Rim, where you will rendezvous with Admiral Xiaoling. Accompany her fleet into the Unknown Regions, and secure a bridgehead for further operations against the First Order."

"It will be done, my lady."

"Admiral Xiaoling will have operational command." Barriss continued with a nod. "Your presence will be to support the admiral with your power in the Force, and in case these…Knights of Ren, make an appearance."

"I understand." Atelmizif said. "Rest assured, I will make every effort to fulfil my duty."

"Be mindful, high inquisitor." Barriss cautioned him. "While Lady Invictus considers the threat of the Knights of Ren and their…false, dark lord, to be…inconsequential, in the long term, she admits they have potential, to be a major thorn in the empire's side. Furthermore, she also suspects they may know more than is appropriate for mere flatterers who ape the empire and the Sith."

"I will temper my actions accordingly then, my lady." Atelmizif said. "If I may ask, speaking of the Grand Marshal, will Lady Invictus be joining us on the field?"

"Lady Invictus has other matters to attend to at present." Barriss replied. "Though it may change in the future, your new assignment should be answer enough that Lady Invictus may not lead suppression operations against the First Order at this time."

"I understand, my lady." Atelmizif said. "I apologize for my thoughtless words."

"Actions speak louder than words." Barriss said. "Lady Invictus may yet join you on the field, in time. You understand, do you not?"

"Yes," Atelmizif said. "If I truly regret my thoughtlessness, then it would be best to express it by ensuring Lady Invictus, or His Majesty, would not be disappointed when the time comes."

"Do so, and the Emperor will be pleased." Barriss said, and her hologram vanished.

* * *

A/N

Starship Troopers – the film series – is supposed to be a satire of militarism…and yet I can't help but think it backfires horribly. If anything, it makes militarism look cool. And their recruitment videos make for great templates to make your own recruitment videos/POVs. I own nothing, Paul Verhoeven owns the Starship Troopers films, though the novel is of course, Robert Heinlein's.

…anyone want to join the Navy?


End file.
